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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26304112">An Unhappy Birthday</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoebemaybe/pseuds/phoebemaybe'>phoebemaybe</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, John Needs A Hug, Past Child Abuse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:47:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,010</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26304112</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoebemaybe/pseuds/phoebemaybe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There were days in his shitty life that he just wanted, no needed to forget. To his dismay, the tenth of May was an insidious curse that he could never be rid of. Tenth of May was his birthday and every passing year just made him wish that he hadn’t been born. </p><p>A little fic in which John’s past comes back to haunt him. Will Zari be able to help him navigate his way out of the dark?</p><p>For HellStar Week - Day 2: AUs.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>John Constantine/Zari Tarazi, John Constantine/Zari Tomaz | Zari Tarazi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>An Unhappy Birthday</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello everyone! This my contribution to HellStar Week – Day 2. A little angsty one shot with a sweet end. </p><p>Thank you @telm_393 for the ficspiration. John Can't Come To The Phone Right Now planted the idea for this fic in my head :).</p><p>Eeeee now this was a rare attempt at angst for me lol. Please please please give me some feedback. Tell me was the angst enough? Too much? Too little? Should I write more angst in the future? XD</p><p>Enjoy~ :3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Happy Birthday, Killer.</em>
</p><p>The voice was back again. There he was wishfully thinking that this year would be different. He should have known he could never escape.</p><p>
  <em>How can you live with yourself knowing that you’re stealing yet another year from her?</em>
</p><p>“Shut up, you fucking wanker.”</p><p>Curling in on himself, John clamped his hands over his ears. Yet, the involuntary reflex did nothing. It was futile because the voice wasn’t real. Not to anyone else but him.</p><p>How he hated that voice.</p><p>He hated how it loved to taunt him by dredging up images of a life long ago and projecting them onto the back of his eyelids, like some form of sick home movie. He despised the crushing remorse and the sense of worthlessness they evoked. The scars littering his body hurt. Almost as if the wounds that had healed over had cracked open again. The pain was reminding him of how they were inflicted.</p><p>The silk sheets he lay beneath felt like slithering snakes, slowly constricting around him, squeezing the air out of his lungs. John’s pulse raced. When his breathing started to hitch, he knew he had to get out before hyperventilation kicked in. Throwing back the covers on his side of the bed, pulling on his pants, he fled to the place furthest from the resident quarters. Panting, he sank to the floor between two stacks of crates in the darkened cargo bay.</p><p>The warlock who usually ran headfirst into danger didn’t feel so brave anymore.</p><p>There were days in his shitty life that he just wanted, no needed to forget. To his dismay, the tenth of May was an insidious curse that he could never be rid of. Tenth of May was his birthday and every passing year just made him wish that he hadn’t been born.</p><p>Flicking open his Zippo lighter, he snapped it closed before repeating the motion again and again. On a third pass, John stopped. His thumb stroked the wheel of the lighter. The friction against the flint within ignited a spark in the dark. A miniature explosion set the wick on fire and a tiny flame flared to life. Heaving a sigh, the steady flame quivered, disturbed by his breath.</p><p>Times like these he really regretted quitting smoking. He longed for that spike of dopamine in his system when nicotine from a cigarette entered his body. The buzz that followed would then come and silent the noise in his head. Even if it was for a short while, it was better than this.</p><p>
  <em>Remember how she died because of you, Killer? </em>
</p><p>His father’s sinister laughter reverberated around his skull. John screwed his eyes shut so tightly sparks danced before his vision. The whiskey in the parlour and the pack of cigarettes hidden in one of his tomes called to him. Sobriety only amplified the voice.</p><p>
  <em>You are better off dead.</em>
</p><p>Huddled amongst the crates, it was as if he were transported back in time; hiding in cupboards and under the bed while his sister stood guard, waiting for their father to pass out on the couch. John remembered cowering in her arms as the brunt of their father’s fury rained upon them. His big sister never cried nor did she resent him for the bruises and belt welts. But when she left, she took away the only kindness his young self had in his life. The shield she provided disappeared with her. She couldn’t protect him anymore.</p><p>Just like how she couldn’t protect him from the monster in his mind now.</p><p>“John?” Came the voice of the person he least wanted to show this side of him to.</p><p>Scrubbing a shaky hand down his face, he grimaced at the wetness that came away. When had the waterworks start? A bubble of self-hatred welled up inside him. The last thing he wanted was for her to witness him wallowing like this, seeing him so weak.</p><p>“There you are! What are you doing here? Sitting in the dark all by yourself.”</p><p>John ducked his head. Swallowing past the lump in his throat, he told Zari in a voice that sounded so brittle even to his own ears, “I’m alright. Go back to bed, love.”</p><p>“No, you’re not. And I’m not just going to leave you now. Not when you’re like this. What’s wrong?” Zari asked, worry coloured her voice as she joined him on the floor beside him. Pulling her legs up to her chest, she rested her chin on her knees. “You can tell me.”</p><p>Unlike the other Zari, his Zari was clueless about his twisted history. Revealing his past to the other Zari was easy. She wasn’t anything more than a teammate and something of a friend at most. However, his Zari was different. A pesky thing called ‘feelings’ came into play with regards to her. It forced him to care. To care for her thoughts and opinions and most of all, her heart.</p><p>“I don’t think I should. Might be best if you didn’t find out actually.”</p><p>“Let me be the judge of that. I’m a big girl. I’m sure I can take it. What’s got you so down?” Her knuckles passed over John’s face, running down the curve of his left cheek in a gentle caress.</p><p>Being vulnerable wasn’t something he did on a whim. Little girls with stars in their eyes wore their hearts on their sleeves. There was no way he could be like them. Being comfortably open around others and god forbid, sharing was for people who were inherently good like Ray. John could never amount to that. He had more things about himself to hide than be proud of. But those large brown eyes of Zari’s, the blatant concern and the warmth of her touch, burning like a brand on his skin had him wavering.</p><p>This woman was too good for him.</p><p>The broken pieces of him were not hers to mend, nor should she have to face the wrath of his demons. The echoes of his past had already left a mark on her, evident in the puffiness under her eyes that she had to conceal in the morning. If she had a glimpse of just how big of a mess he was and left, maybe she could be further spared from the burden that he was.</p><p>So maybe she needed to know.</p><p>“Thirty-eight years ago, today, mum died giving birth to me. And all my life, my drunkard of a father never neglected to remind me of the fact.” John sniffed. “Killer. That’s what he called me before socking me in the head.” Swinging a close fist to the right, he mimed a punch.</p><p>“Those scars on your back, your arms…” The raised, circular ones her fingers had traced over many times. A sharp inhalation of air through Zari’s no doubt parted lips echoed loudly around the room. “He did more than hit you, didn’t he?”</p><p>John shrugged, staring resolutely ahead. If he looked at her, he knew he would find nothing but pity on her pretty face and horror in her eyes. He could never stand that. He had done so much wrong in his life to so many people, he didn’t warrant her sympathy.</p><p>“Bastard.”</p><p>The vehemency in Zari’s voice amazed him. Peeking at her from the corner of his eye, he was blown away yet again by the brilliance of his lover. With that scowl curling her lips and her eyes flashing in the dark, his Zari resembled a warrior princess, staring down a colossal monster that she was about to slay.</p><p>His colossal monster.</p><p>“No offence but your father is a rotten asshole. Actually, you know what? I mean all the offence! How can a parent bear to harm their innocent child because of something as unpredictable as child birth?”</p><p>Huffing, Zari scooted closer to him. She lifted his arm and draped it over her shoulders. John wasn’t sure if she was looking for comfort after her outburst on his behalf or offering it to him but he never looked a gift horse in the mouth. Almost hauling her onto his lap, he held on tight, hungrily seeking solace in the warmth solidness of her body.</p><p>“I’m so sorry you had to endure that. You shouldn’t have had to suffer. No child should go through something like that. Especially not at the hands of people who were supposed to care for them.”</p><p>Warm puffs of air fluttered across his skin as Zari spoke. Her words flowed from her lips in a hush, near whisper. Like she was addressing the little boy he used to be. Was she hurting because of him? Did she feel sympathy for his plight? For his trauma? His pride wanted him to be angry at her pity. Yet for some reason the anger wouldn’t rise up.</p><p>There was only weariness.</p><p>And that old familiar guilt.</p><p>Deep down, a part of him always believed that he deserved every bit of punishment his father inflicted on him. If he wasn’t conceived, his mother might have had a chance to a life.  His father and sister would have had a complete family. He ruined their lives.</p><p>John shook his head. “If it weren’t for me…”</p><p>Grabbing his face with both her hands, Zari forced him to meet her straight in the eye. She said to him in a tone that demanded no objections, “Your father was a repulsive person who directed his grief onto you because you lived. You did <em>not</em> deserve that man’s misplaced rage. It’s not as if an infant could choose whether they wanted to be born or not. None of it was your fault.”</p><p>For long moments, John just stared at her. He searched her eyes. For what? He couldn’t put his finger on. Until, a tremulous chuckle came unbidden as the weight on his chest lifted and it finally clicked. It was her sincerity. He never realized how much he needed to have someone say that to him. Not to patronise but truly speak to him.</p><p>“Parents shouldn’t do that to their children. What that bastard did to you was unforgivable. I hope his sorry ass rots in hell.”</p><p>“Never would’ve pegged you as one so vindictive, love.” John noted with interest. His observation however disappeared in a muffled mumble as he tucked Zari’s head under his chin and buried his face into her hair. He pinched his eyes closed on the tears that threatened to overflow.</p><p>“Well, it’s what he deserves at the very least.”</p><p>John released a whoosh of breath and the tension in his body drained out with it. “If you must know? He is in Hell. I checked. Rotting and all.”</p><p>“Good. That’s his prize for being father of the year.”</p><p>Sitting there snuggled up with Zari, feeling her fingers slipping into the spaces between his, the perpetual darkness surrounding him seemed less oppressive. The tormentor living in his head had surprisingly gone quiet and the phantom pain from before had abated too. Maybe talking about it all helped. Or maybe he just hadn’t had the right company in the past.</p><p>“Hey.” Tugging at his index finger playfully, Zari suggested, “Why don’t we go and visit your mum? You’ve never met her, right?”</p><p>Blinking away the gathering moisture in his eyes, John emerged from her hair. “I have actually. She banned me from her pub for trying to give me da a back-alley vasectomy,” he said, shooting Zari a wry smirk.</p><p>“Back-alley what?” Zari asked with a look of confusion scrunching up her features.</p><p>Funny. The other Zari had the exact reaction too.</p><p>John proceeded to explain, “I thought if I kicked him hard enough where it mattered, it’d save us all the pain. Turns out that that would be going against some law of time travel and I failed. Got punched in the face instead.”</p><p>Mirth overwhelmed his Zari and peals of laughter came tumbling out of her. “Of course. Only John Constantine would attempt to create a time paradox to erase himself from existence, just to get his ass handed to him.”</p><p>Her laughter was infectious. John couldn’t help but smile with her. “Pretty much the story of my life really.”</p><p>Grinning still, Zari pressed her lips to his scruffy cheek. “Just so you know, I’m very glad you failed. You wouldn’t be here if you had succeeded.”</p><p>Resting his forehead against Zari’s, John said, “We should visit my sister, Cheryl, one day. Haven’t seen her in years.”</p><p>“You have a sister?”</p><p>“Aye. An older sister.” Carding his fingers through Zari’s curls, he began his recount of the lighter parts of his childhood. Lighter but still dismal. “Growing up, she was the only person who was remotely nice to me. She never blamed me for our mother’s passing. Our father wasn’t happy with her when she tried to hide me from him. She used to think of all sorts of ways for us to avoid facing that asshole. We made it a game.” His grip in Zari’s locks tensed as despondency revved up and crashed over him. “Eventually, I guess she couldn’t take the pain anymore and she left. After that, everything got worse.”</p><p>Silence embroiled the two of them. A silence that conveyed everything that John couldn’t bring himself to say. Not without reliving the events all over again.  </p><p>His ever-empathetic Zari curled her arms around his waist. “When you could, you left too.”</p><p>“I did, yeah. Not soon enough. There’s a lot about my past that you don’t know about. All the despicable, unsavoury things I’ve done after I fled that hellhole of a home. I am the definition of messed up.” Laughing a dry laugh, John glanced away from the woman in his arms, “You should… er… run while you still can, luv.”</p><p>With romantic relationship track record like his? He had to warn Zari. He had to give her the option to leave. He tried to sound flippant but frankly, it went against the uncustomary feelings he harboured for his Zari, swirling around inside him.</p><p>Though he had no qualms that she would be better off far away from his tortured self, he couldn’t help but want her. His heart clenched at the thought of her walking away from him. Within a short period of time, Zari’s presence had grown to occupy a fair amount of space in his trodden heart. It was selfish but having had a taste of happiness that he never envisioned experiencing again, he wasn’t all too eager to let it go.</p><p>He didn’t want to let her go.</p><p>His nightmares were only the tip of a very large iceberg. If she discovered the darkness of his past, the darkness that followed him? Would she truly up and leave? If she did, it would hurt but he knew he wouldn’t blame her.</p><p>“It’s true that I don’t know you all that well. But I do know that everyone has a past and it doesn’t have to define who we are now. I don’t want to give up on you, on us so easily just because of things that have already happened.” Shifting in his hold, Zari got to her knees. Flinging a leg astride him, she settled herself on his thighs in a straddle. Squishing his cheeks between her hands, she continued, “I know what you’re trying to do. You think pushing me away before your scary demons can get to me will keep me safe. You may be a <em>nasty piece of work</em>,” The way she imitated his accent drew a snort from him which had her smiling, “but I can handle nasty. Never underestimate Zari Tarazi.”</p><p>Disbelief coloured the words that poured forth from John’s mouth, “You’d stick around? The skeletons in my closet could fill the Paris catacombs. You sure you want all that in your already crazy life?”</p><p>Zari merely replied with a lilting hum before embroiling him in a heated lock of the lips.</p><p>The sucker that he was, John responded in kind, matching her fervour with equal enthusiasm. His hands with minds of their own started to roam. One delved into her silky locks to cradle the back of her head. The other snuck into the confines of her pyjama top. Drawing a path up and down along the curve of her spine, John relished in the smoothness of her skin. Zari had the ability to scramble his thoughts until all he could focus on was her much like nicotine. He got lost in her every time. This time would no doubt be the same.</p><p>Alas, his minx had other plans. Just when things were heating up, Zari wrenched herself away from him, parting their lips with a wet smack.</p><p>“Oh my god! Today’s your birthday!” She exclaimed breathlessly. Her palms were planted on either of John’s shoulders for balance.</p><p>Swiping his tongue over his tingly lips, John let his head fall back against the metal wall with a dull thump. Much like nicotine, his Zari was addictive. She had him craving for more. One drag was never enough.</p><p>“Aye.” Arching upwards to reach her, he peppered a line of kisses along her jaw. Then, he switched to teeth, grazing a trail down her throat. “If you’re willing, we could start the celebrations early.” At the hollow of her neck, he placed a nip there. “Preferably without clothes on.”</p><p>Giggling, Zari yanked him away from her chest. Her cheeks bore a light dusting of pink. The wide smile tickling her lips seemed to light her up from the inside, making her glow. It wasn’t hard at all to be captivated by her.</p><p>“I love the way you think, Constantine,” she purred before diving in, fusing their mouths together once more.</p><p>Now, John knew he was far from being okay. The voices were undoubtedly still there lurking, waiting to emerge from the depths and spook him when he least expected. However, with Zari by his side, he was beginning to wonder.</p><p>Perhaps his future birthdays could be something to look forward to.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading! &gt;3&lt;</p><p>You can find me on tumblr @phoebemaybe.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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